to what you have been thinking
by EchoMoonHuntress
Summary: Get the story out of the way, and listen to these words circling in my brain. - Samus/Marth.


**For Daisy Bokoblin, hope you like it!**

 **Putting this up in a rush because I really have to go so it's not edited too well yet.**

* * *

"You're out here so late. What's up?"

The boy in question jumps, looks sideways at the girl who has just dropped next to him. She is not wearing her zero suit, nor is she wearing her usual suit of armor. Rather, her hair's undone, gauzy nightgown brushing her knees and she's not wearing makeup. She doesn't ever wear makeup, really, because Samus finds it's extremely stupid and it's no competition, anyways. She's a knockout.

She rolls her eyes at him, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Marth, I asked you a _question_. You could _answer_ it, just saying."

He sighs, chains his fingers together. The funny thing about Samus is that she'll always suggest something. _Just saying_ or _if you feel like it_. Like they have a choice. Nobody has choices in the Smash Mansion, they just have orders that are issued and are expected to be commanded.

"Thinking," he replies. She raises an eyebrow. So vague, so general.

"Of what?"

He meets her eyes directly; they are blue, like his, but there is a general difference between them. Samus has wise eyes, the eyes of someone who has lived a long, long, life of battling and has never given up hope. His eyes are dark blue, frantically looking for an escape, new and feverish and scared, even after months of staying at the Smash Mansion.

"The changing season," he says, and Samus blinks. "That's what you call it, right? When people leave, and newcomers take their place. I'm thinking about that."

Silence thickens between them, like a big fog. Marth thinks, yes, it was a bad idea to bring that up, because he _knows_ about the veterans. He knows that they are forever trapped in the Mansion and they have no way out. His chances of leaving are slim, very slim, but not impossible. But mentioning that to Samus is probably not a good idea.

She draws in a sharp breath. "Yes, we do call it that. Are you thinking of leaving, Marth?"

And there it is again, the command poised as a question, a choice. Marth laughs.

"I didn't think I had a choice."

Silence again.

"You don't, really," Samus informs him, matter-of-factly. "It's kind of a given. People come and go, and the battles keep going on."  
Somehow Marth does not like the sound of that. It sounds like a war being dragged out forever, never truly ending because there's nothing left to battle for.

"They bring in new blood, for new fighting?"

"Gotta spice it up somehow." Samus gives him a smile, but there is no humor traced on her lips. "But anyways. Do you want to leave the Smash Mansion?"

Marth digs his nails into his palms. Samus would not like his answer, no, not one bit, so he avoids allowing the word to spill past his lips.

"I'm sorry about Snake," he says finally, watching as the bounty hunter flinches. That was not his intention, he definitely does not want to hurt her, but it should stall him from answering the inevitable. He still feels a twinge of pity though, as different emotions flicker across Samus's face.

(They don't talk about Solid Snake. Especially not to Samus Aran.)

"Thanks," she says stiffly, suddenly retaining a curt manner. "I appreciate it."

He shrugs, stares back out at the vast encasement of stars. Samus sucks in her breath next to him, and dimly he is aware of her sliding her hand into his, tangling their fingers together. She leans in, close enough so that her blonde hair tickles his cheek. His hand starts to hurt, under her tight grip. He wonders if that is his punishment, for bringing Snake up. It doesn't matter to him particularly, but whatever the case he changes the subject.

He says, "I've got a question for you," and she looks at him, the mischievous spark in her eyes dulled to a glint now. Her grip loosens, slightly.

"Oh?"

He sighs and leans back. "What's scarier, the big, bad world, or this small battle region?"

It is an honest question, a vulnerable one, even as a frown slips in Samus's face. Marth thinks that no one has ever asked a veteran such questions before. He wouldn't be surprised.

"I don't know," she answers, discreetly.

Marth's eyes dart towards her. "Yeah, I'm sure no one does."

She shrugs, and her eyes crinkle in a smile that lets Marth know that she has forgiven him for the Snake comment. "Either way, it could be a lot worse, if you went alone. It's easier to venture out in the terrible wonders with someone by your side."

Marth smiles, a silent chuckle escaping his mouth. Samus looks up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, I answered your question. Please, for the love of Palutena, just answer mine. That's all I ask."

A direct order from Samus. She must really want his answer, then. Marth turns towards her, the _no_ perched on the tip of his tongue, when he sees her face. She doesn't have that bored expression on her face, nor does she have a mischievous one. She looks human, like a little girl curiously waiting for an answer.

"I do want to leave," he starts, and Samus blinks rapidly, a look of hurt fleeting across her face, "but only if you come with me."  
She blinks again, looking surprised, shocked. "You know I can't leave," she says, sifting her body so her face is close to his. "I'm a veteran."

He smirks at her. "Okay," he replies, "then I want to stay here with you. It's like you just said. It's easier to conquer the world when you have someone next to you."

"Those are _not_ my exact words," Samus says, but she's smiling now, and she's still smiling when Marth leans forward and presses his lips to hers.


End file.
